Page 93 of Her Accidental Highlander Husband

That was all he needed to know. He gave in to his growing desire and rose over his wife as she wriggled under him. He rested at her entrance and then stopped.

“The babe?”

“Will be fine.” She shifted, pulling him down, and he went gladly.

The first time was rushed and frantic. He was just so overjoyed to find her alive and carrying his babe. He couldn’t contain his happiness. The second time, he was able to make it last. He treasured every touch and smile between them.

Afterward, lying there with her in his arms, he had no choice but to face the reason he had fled his home to come to this godforsaken place for this woman.

Cameron MacKinlay—the war chief of Clan MacKinlay—was in love with a tiny duchess on trial for murder.

Fate had a cruel sense of humor.

Later, after they rested a bit, Mari requested a tray be brought up for their dinner. The meal they received was hardly enough for him, let alone to share with a woman who was increasing. Even so, he’d pushed more of the food on her, wanting to keep her healthy. Now, as dawn made its claim on the day, he silently gathered his dusty clothes to go forage for breakfast before he grew weak with hunger.

He didn’t know how to go about a meal in London. He hoped to find the kitchens and gather what he needed himself. He’d take enough to feed Mari as well, so they could keep to their bed as long as possible. There in her room they were safe from the truth of the situation. It was easy enough to pretend they were back in Dunardry, despite the fancy bedclothes, the fabrics on the walls, and the elaborate bed.

At the bottom of the stairs he encountered a man standing next to an open door. In Cam’s haste to be with his wife, he’d forgotten to ask if she was alone in the house.

The man was impeccably dressed, with a haughty demeanor. His eyes remained straight ahead. Cam looked down at himself and decided he looked a mess. It was no wonder the man didn’t care to glance his way.

He opened his mouth to say something. Maybe explain to the snotty Englishman that he was in a shambles because he’d been kept in a dungeon for days by a man he’d once loved as a brother. Then he’d ridden like hell for London, and even so he had looked fairly decent…until his wife got her hands on him the night before and dragged him to her bed.

“Good day, sir,” the man said with a bow. “Would you care to take breakfast? It’s been set out.”

A servant. The man was dressed better than all the lairds he’d ever seen in Scotland. Cam’s brows creased, but the smell of meat made his feet move forward.

“Aye. That would be fine. Thank you.”

A brief shift of his eyes was the only sign the other man was surprised by Cam’s crude Scottish tongue.

Following the man’s gesture, Cam entered a room and gaped at the amount of food sitting ready on a large sideboard.

“How many people live in this house?” he asked before the servant could leave.

“Two—or rather three, now that you’ve arrived, sir.”

“I see.” Cam frowned at the feast before him that would rival a celebration at Dunardry. “In that case, I’d best not let it go to waste.” Grabbing up a plate, he helped himself.

He was finishing his second plate when the sound of small approaching feet called his attention to the door. With a smile in place, he waited expectantly for his wife to enter.

The gray-haired woman who stepped into the room was clearly not his wife. Even if Mari had aged forty years in one night, she would never look so shriveled and dour.

The old lady gasped and clapped a hand to her chest. “Parkes!” she called in a frantic voice. The man who had escorted Cam into the room stepped closer. “We’ve been set upon by barbarians!”

“I’m to understand this is your daughter-in-law’s new husband, Your Grace,” the man said formally, casting an unsure glance toward Cam.

Cam stood and took a step closer to introduce himself, but the small woman scurried behind the servant as if Cam planned to finish off his meal with her leathery flesh. Another step from him forced a squeak of worry.

Good God. He wasn’t that fearsome.

“Thank ye for your hospitality, Your Grace. I am Cameron MacKinlay, Mari’s husband. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He attempted a bow, since it seemed to be the way of things here. Damn if he knew whether he’d done it correctly.

“I assure you, the pleasure is all yours,” she said harshly, taking another step backward.

Cam smiled at the old biddy. Being orphaned at the age of eleven, of necessity he’d mastered the art of charming the older women of his clan into giving him treats. Occasionally, he’d gone so far as to lavish compliments on them to win a coin here and there. He’d always been able to bring them around to thinking him sweet.

He wasn’t certain the dowager duchess of Endsmere had ever been charmed in her life. If so, it was surely six hundred twenty years ago, judging by the creases of her permanent frown.